


Stardust and Black Credit Cards (Plus God-Given Asses)

by onnaonah



Category: EXO
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-06-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:26:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25377631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onnaonah/pseuds/onnaonah
Summary: Jongin’s backstage demeanor is as indulgent as we all truly want it to be.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongin | Kai, Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongin | Kai, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Jongin | Kai, Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol
Kudos: 1





	Stardust and Black Credit Cards (Plus God-Given Asses)

**Title:** Stardust and Black Credit Cards (Plus God-Given Asses)

**Pairing:** Kai/everyone

**Word Count:** 8972

**Rating:** NC-17 and then some

**Warnings:** Fem!members, mild D/s, semi-public sex, drunk sex, age reversal, age difference, fingering, anal, first time, sex with strangers

**Author’s Note:** Reading soundtrack: <https://t.co/BdNo8fYCKS>. Title and subtitle both refer to David Bowie’s “Ziggy Stardust.” Crossposting my entry for [](https://playboys0408.livejournal.com/profile)[**playboys0408**](https://playboys0408.livejournal.com/). Nearly 9k of unrepentant porn because I really really really wanted to try doing a Kai/everyone for the hell of it, and now I probably wouldn't write any form of sex in a pretty damn long while. The bestest of love and the highest of gratitude to [](https://frozenbreeze.livejournal.com/profile)[**frozenbreeze**](https://frozenbreeze.livejournal.com/) for being the awesomest beta, the greatest princess of the southern hemisphere. Originally posted on <http://playboys0408.livejournal.com/7017.html>.

**Summary:** Jongin’s backstage demeanor is as indulgent as we all truly want it to be.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
Kai is a withering orchid, firm hands gripping onto trembling bodies, lively eyes hooded with desire. He is propped on his elbows on top of a writhing body, fucking deep and in earnest, with soft grunts and nibbles, panting sighs and loving kisses. His partner sighs a helpless whimper. He doesn’t want to believe it, but he knows he makes so much better love on borrowed time.

  


Jongin never imagined half the wealth and fame he would have today. Sure, he worked hard on it since he was just a snotty boy: coming home past midnight after hours and hours of practice in a passion for his craft and the vain hope of becoming a superstar. He never thought himself to be popular throughout school, at least not until girls constantly whispered and gandered in his presence. Not until the stream of roses and chocolates and perfumed love letters started flooding his locker.

By the time Jongin was numb to the thoughtful handmade gifts and flustered love confessions, he had had an ample number of exes, simply taking them in to make out for a few weeks and discarding them at his convenience. However popular, Jongin was just a first year in high school, all picky with who he was going to have his first time with. He decided never to grant the privilege to any of his suitors and chase for himself the hottest, most popular girl in school.

It was a cold day in February when Jongin had his first time. Baekhee, his senior by two years, had brought Jongin into her studio apartment a few days before graduation in place of Jongin's innocent invitation for coffee. After closing her door, she took off her winter coat before taking off his, making sure to scrape her fingernails softly over the fabric of his uniform sleeves. She caressed the side of his face with practiced ease. “I know what you’re here for. Saw it through you from five miles away,” she tiptoed and purred, staring at his full lips before testing the waters. Jongin gasped at the surprise peck, returning her actions before he knew it. Baekhee pushed Jongin to the wall of her shoe porch before Jongin could do so to her, eventually pinning him and kissing him senseless.

Baekhee would be Jongin’s eleventh girlfriend, while Jongin her umpteenth fuck. Her lips were thin and her tongue little, and he could not help but moan at the first intrusion of her tongue licking up his own and down the roof of his mouth. The way her sharp canines bit at his bottom lip sent blood rushing hot in his veins. She pulled his hair and Jongin toed off his shoes in response, groaning, holding her shoulders before she withdrew and pulled him by the elbow, panting the sentence, “There’s a bed upstairs.”

So Baekhee guided Jongin up the barren stairs and onto her low-set queen-sized bed before sitting on his lap. She took off her uniform vest and resumed kissing him, red bra clearly visible through her thin white shirt. Jongin kissed her, already hard with desire, and she responded with one hand crawling down his back and the other palming his dick over his uniform pants. Jongin hissed and groaned. He sucked under her ear and down to her clavicles, and Baekhee stopped him only to slowly strip herself topless. Jongin watched in anticipation as she undid the two top buttons of her uniform, teasing the slight shadows of her breasts. She took off her uniform like she would a t-shirt, with the confidence of a girl who knew she had a great body.

Jongin watched the swell of her breasts underneath the flattering padded bra, and she reached behind her back to unbutton it herself, letting it fall down her arms and onto the floor. Those were Jongin’s first set of real-life tits, exposed just for him, and oh how his cock pulsed at the sight. They perked beautifully and fitted her slight frame just right; just the perfect over-a-handful for Jongin to knead. Her nipples were a stark brown against her pale ivory skin, and Baekhee squirmed in his hold when Jongin started kissing the mounds, taking his time to enjoy the curve and volume.

Baekhee pushed him down on her bed and returned the favor, kissing Jongin’s sensitive body, making muscles stretch and writhe underneath skillful lips. She ran her thin, pointy fingers down the ridges of his abdomen before reaching for the red pack of condom on the bedside table. She rolled it down for him and adjusted herself with a confident gaze on him, ready to impale herself on his erection.

Baekhee watched the expressions change on Jongin's face as she carefully lowered herself onto him. She rode him easily, the slide in amazing and predictable for her, but beyond heavenly to the untested young boy. He moaned the loudest he ever did, grabbing her hips and moving along with her. She was so warm, so smooth inside, walls squeezing tight around the skin of his shaft.

Jongin sat up, cock sheathed in all the different angles during the switch before he pulled her down, her legs readily circling his torso and pushing him in deeper, faster. His hair was matted with sweat, full lips half open and blossoming red.

The pleasure was building up within the both of them, and Jongin was moving fast, overwhelmed by the novelty of sex at all. He came in the middle of a kiss, lips still and hips jerking as the intense orgasm overshadowed everything in his senses, his come warm on her walls. The two panted, one in satisfaction and one in disappointment, until Jongin pulled out and discarded the condom to come back with two stubby fingers. Baekhee welcomed the insertion, writhing and moaning as his fingers slid in and out of her, stimulating the deepest ends of her walls and tickling the lips of her entrance. Jongin bent in to suck on her neck, and her gasps and sighs were so hot in his ears. Baekhee grabbed his wrist to move faster and he did, until her breathing grew into moans and her legs quivered. She came not too long after, his thumb on her clit rubbing her over the edge. Jongin pulled out his slick fingers, the sight of her fluids and the thought of her clenches making him half hard again. He waited as Baekhee laid down panting, orgasm still rushing through her nerve endings. He hoped she wouldn't mind him asking for another round.

  


Having the school’s sex queen as his first was Jongin’s best decision, because Baekhee’s star-high ratings for Jongin that day granted him early access to all the clubs she had gone to, giving him a head start on the fast life. They were too indulgent to be exclusive. Through his nights out with her, he’d probably met and fucked more media persons than he would’ve otherwise, giving him the secret back door to the artful career he had always dreamed of. His first music video was out not too long after, introducing his gorgeous face to obsessed groupies and crazy stalkers alike. Jongin could never stop thanking the woman who thought of selling him as Kai: a sexy persona hotter than Jongin the Boy could ever wish for. Kai’s qualities easily seeped into Jongin's own--just a larger extension of the hot blooded man he used to sell himself as in high school.

Fast forward to some years later, at the peak of his fame. He was twenty-three. Jongin’s features had fairly matured, and so had his attitude towards this lifestyle. He was leaning at one of the tables at the peripheries of a club, sipping a cocktail, his current date too deep in the dance floor for him to find. He was well dressed, prim top to bottom—minus the tuxedo and top two buttons—thanks to his great stylists and gifts from wealthy heiress tween fans. His gaze was directed towards a short girl with bouncy wavy hair, thighs thick and breasts perky beneath her leather tube dress. She was dancing with an older man in a suit. The girl turned her head and spotted him from afar before giving him a coy smile and a wink.

Jongin could easily butt in and snatch her from the man’s hands, but he decided to wait. The girl moved her body closer to the man, hips swaying and grazing against his in a show obviously meant for Jongin. She whispered in the man’s ear and he left the floor to go to the bar, leaving a space for Jongin to fill. She continued to dance alone.

He passed by the man, who was holding two glasses of drinks.

“Is she with you?” Jongin asked.

The man stuttered, too shocked to be interacting with Kai. “Well. Well, no. She—um. She’s been looking at you. I--I don’t think I stand a chance.”

Hell no you don’t, he could have said, but he smiled and opted for a vaguer, safer, “Maybe,” before snatching the drinks off his hands and discreetly switching the glasses with some money for the favor. He walked up to her and gave her the drink she was waiting for.

“My name is Kai,” he said over the music, close to her ear. As if she didn’t know. “What’s yours?”

“It’s Xiumin.” She gulped the liquor like it’s water. “Fuck, life is great.”

He smiled. He liked that girl.

She thrashed her head left and right, her whole body bouncing with the movement. Jongin loved his view from above, sky-high pumps accentuating every bounce of her body for him to check out. She took his hands and played along with them. He took one step closer.

“Say, Xiumin,” he enquired, lips grazing her ear. When Jongin was Kai, he never forwent smiles or forgot names. He heard her respond. “Would you come with me to the bathroom at the back?”

She threw her head back in boisterous laughter and stole the other drink from his hand--typical despicable valley girl who knew how to get what she wanted. This was the real-life Kai, and he was chivalrously requesting to fuck her. Jongin held himself from kissing her right then and there.

She pulled his hand enthusiastically through the crowd, and it was hard to navigate, but they made it into one of the stalls alive. Clean, granite walls, piss and puke free; the bathroom’s great, but having the girl melt under his touch was even better. Jongin trapped her between his body and the door, pinned her hands above her head, and kissed her pretty, pale skin—pretty little lips peeking pretty little teeth.

Halfway through Jongin nibbling on her neck and groping her firm ass, he snaked his hand under her dress, and he could feel the lace and slik underneath his fingertips. He glided his hand down her cleanly shaved pubic mound and dug into her slick, wet slit. He made a circular motion on the sensitive surface right under her clit. Xiumin’s uninhibited moans echoed on the fancy granite walls. She was so responsive and candid, so easy to please.

She lowered her panties for him and shoved a condom and lube into his hands. “I’m not wet enough,” she explained between her heavy breathing, “Let’s not use the stall for too long.”

  


Cute. Sexy. Conscientious too.

  


Jongin kneeled to take off her shoes and stockings. He rolled the condom on and slicked it with her lube before putting the small bottle in his back pocket. “I’m going to pick you up, okay,” he whispers before doing so, his cock brushing against her slit as he adjusted himself. “Ready?”

She was loud. Her pussy was hot, wet, and just tight enough, and Jongin couldn’t help but bounce her up against him and fuck her senseless. He kissed her ear and panted only for her to hear.

His mind was all focused on the heat and friction surrounding his dick, but Jongin could hear the swing of the door and click of footsteps approaching, until he saw a pair of leather man-heels leaning on the granite wall, waiting outside his stall. Jongin grabbed Xiumin’s ass and sucked on her neck in response, making her moan even louder for their new audience.

Xiumin signaled Jongin to stop, so he did. She lifted one leg on Jongin’s shoulder, the other leg barely tiptoeing on the marble tiles. They resumed, the angle making a tighter passage for Jongin to fuck into, savoring the feeling until he lifted her other leg back from the impractical position anyway. Xiumin bounced herself on his cock. They moaned together upon her pussy clenching tighter inside. They went on faster, the pleasure jolting through their bodies, minds too clouded to care. She could feel herself getting closer. She kissed him and pulled his hair out of feral instinct; all tongue, teeth, and thirst, just to get herself over the edge. She bit down on his lower lip as she came, body trembling in ecstasy. Jongin knew to keep kissing and thrusting. The mix of her orgasmic clenches, his relentless thrusts, and her assertive tugs of hair had him coming not too long after. Jongin moaned as he came, her postcoital pulses strong on his penis.

It was silent, save for the crummy toilet music and their heavy breathing. Jongin pushed her to the door, legs too weak to hoist her anymore, and let her slide herself off of him. It was all their might not to fall on the floor. He kissed her softly as a token of gratitude. They chuckled.

The two went out the stall as soon as they recovered. Jongin kissed her hand and said, “Thank you, Beautiful,” to her ear. Xiumin laughed, and Jongin watched as she stumbled away on her tiptoes with shoes in her fingers, the pain in her thighs only starting to register.

Jongin saw the reflection of another man in the mirror, the eavesdropper still leaning there with hands folded over his chest. Jongin turned his head to the door, then to the other man in the mirror, and asked, “Was that your girlfr—”

The eavesdropper dragged him back into the stall and slammed Jongin into the wall. Jongin’s head lolled down from the impact, leading his sight straight to the stranger’s obvious boner. “You’ve been listening,” Jongin deadpanned.

“Why couldn’t I?” the eavesdropper snarled, fingers already tugging on the head of Jongin’s belt. “You were rather silent earlier.”

“I think I’ve always been.” Jongin responded. He never had anything sexual to do with a man before, but seeing the built body under the man’s thin dress shirt and the veiny hand on his buckle… He thought he could get used to that.

“I can prove you better,” the eavesdropper offered, shiny shoes and shiny bucklehead and shiny golden wristwatch a show of his impeccable taste and masculinity. He was slightly shorter, only coming up to the top of Jongin’s eyebrows, but neither of them minded. The eavesdropper leaned closer and Jongin could smell the thick, expensive-smelling musk cologne slowly emitting from his neck. Fuck. Jongin could feel himself growing hot under his collar again. He could see himself turning over and have this man fuck the shit out of him for a good long while. The eavesdropper had him stunned and shivering when he purred a deep, sudden, “I’ve never seen you nervous like this, Kai,” into his ear, before putting a hand over his clothed dick, stroking it just enough for Jongin to shut his eyes and moan without command. The eavesdropper leaned his head on Jongin’s, exhaling a breath or two on his ear before kissing it and saying, “My name is Chen.”

Chen continued grabbing and stroking what he could of Jongin’s cock, and Jongin responsively gave kisses down the sturdy column of Chen’s neck, hurriedly unbuttoning the gilded stud buttons of Chen’s white dress shirt as he did so. Chen thick fingers were swift at unbuckling Jongin and undoing his pants. He gave Jongin a few more seconds to indulge in his own lust-drunken kisses before suddenly breaking away and kneeling at Jongin’s feet.

Jongin had totally thought that it was going to be the other way around.

Jongin had had handjobs, blowjobs before, by thin young hands and thin young lips that were thin with experience. He watched as Chen lowered Jongin’s Armani boxers just enough to pull out his hardening cock. Chen inspected Jongin’s junk like it was defective product, deeming it not hard enough for his liking before standing back on his feet and kissing the hell out of Jongin like a horny teenager. Chen kissed like a pro, Jongin's bottom lip between his teeth and Jongin's tongue underneath his. The swipe of Chen's lips were so sinful and maddening, leaving Jongin's body helpless and his brain jelly.

Chen left Jongin panting and holding on to the granite walls for dear life. He went back to kneeling at Jongin’s feet, giving Jongin’s hard, leaking dick a few good tugs before finally sliding it through his hot, hot lips, and Jongin hissed, because if this man hadn’t been the world’s best in giving head, he didn’t know who was. Jongin had no idea that getting head would be this gratifying, but Chen was sucking his balls and jerking him off, sending his hips thrusting into Chen’s face and his voice echoing through the restroom.

Chen took the time to expose his foreskin and suck on his underside, before kissing the head of Jongin's cock and letting it slide back in. He knew how to maintain the right tempo, hollowing his cheeks every now and then for surprise. The constant pressure had Jongin bucking and thrusting into Chen's mouth. Jongin could feel nothing but Chen's mouth being so deliciously hot and wet around his shaft, so precise in his movements. The pressure was building up inside of him, and Jongin couldn't help but think of being on top of Chen naked, fucking him raw. Jongin reached through Chen's hair and pushed him closer, making Chen bob his head further and faster for him. The two of them moaned. Jongin's thrusts grew shallow and erratic, his head thrown back and his face contorted in pleasure. "Fuck. Fuck, I'm close," he groaned deeply. Chen used his right hand to help stroke and his left hand to fondle Jongin's balls in response, and Jongin came silently, holding Chen’s head so close, sputtering into his mouth.

Chen gave Jongin the most intense orgasm he’d had in a long while, the sensation shortcircuiting his brain and dulling long after in his veins. Chen spat what he couldn’t swallow into the toilet bowl, then used the toilet paper behind him to wipe his mouth and some of Jongin’s dick, then zipped and buckled Jongin’s slacks back for him. He threw the dirtied tissue into the toilet bowl before leaning onto the partition opposite Jongin. He watched the orgasm recede from Jongin, waited for him to get back on his feet.

“Good?” Chen asked.

Jongin nodded with a weak smile and an ok hand sign. Jongin looked up and sighed, then he reached behind Chen to take some toilet paper to wipe his sweaty forehead. He threw the dirtied tissue into the toilet bowl and flushed it away, spunk, sweat, and all. Behind him, Chen was sifting through his wallet.

Chen patted Jongin on the shoulder and Jongin turned his head. He stood upright to listen to Chen, but saw the boner in Chen’s pants that’d been staying there for a very long time. Jongin looked at Chen’s eyes with hands on Chen’s buckle, but Chen stopped him, saying, “I can take care of that later.” With one hand on Jongin’s breast pocket, “Well, Kai. It was nice to meet you, if again,” he gave Jongin one last kiss, “and thank you, Beautiful,” before leaving the stall, wooden soles clicking class on the marble floor.

Jongin was starstruck. In his pocket was a business card with Chen’s name and a Versace-esque logo at the back. Chen was an artisan perfumer from the brand he just represented last season. How could he have forgotten?

Jongin walked out of the bathroom stall and washed his face. His hair was a mess. His shirt was a mess. But he liked it, so he dried his hands and walked out the bathroom just like that. A small crowd had already formed out the door, wondering what the superstar Kai would look like after all the faint wailing seeping through the soundproof bathroom door. The crowd parted in half to make way for him, and Jongin speed-dialed his chauffeur to take him back home. He was spent. All he needed was some whiskey in the quiet of his living room, then he could go to sleep.

  


The coming weeks were sleepless for Jongin. It was promo season, and he had so many things planned ahead of him: TV broadcasts, interviews, fashion photoshoots, a 25-stop Asia concert. Being Kai, Jongin had it all at his fingertips. He was a dashing man: tall, well-built, with sharp eyes attentive in private and attractive in public. He had such tall cheekbones, a short nose, and beautiful, full lips, framed in a diamond-shaped face. It was an odd mix proportioned in such a way that created a beauty that was nearly universal.

Kai easily achieved market success from day one; oiled with his enchanting looks and fueled with tireless promotion from his conglomerate music label. Teens and adults alike loved his music videos, and whatever he wore on TV would have its Dongdaemun street counterfeit the next morning. Kai’s art, however, was abnormal at best: a subject of editorial hate only sweetened by fermentation and time—an offbeat lovechild of visual-kei and straitjacketed psychoses.

Zhang Yixing, popularly known as Lay, had requested Kai to star in his upcoming music video. He was a fellow solo vocalist with quirky visual styles and backstage habits. Lay’s team was proposing for the two to become runaway gun-bearing punks on a crime-laden rebellion against society. Kai was set to make out with Lay for pretty much all day for the camera, among other things. Bar-style decor, with old stools and fraying sofas to put one on the other's lap. The lights were dim, decidedly pink far above their chuckling heads. Kai was an awkwardly long set of limbs in Lay's arms, but he made do, knees folded on either side of Lay's body in a rocking armchair.

If Kai were to be asked this question on press interviews, he would definitely answer that yes, Lay was a very good kisser. Or maybe it was Kai projecting his skills on Lay. Either way, the director praised the two for unmatchable chemistry and naturally amazing shots. Kai loved the grungy look he was assigned today, far different from the sanitized and watered-down kind of 'grungy' his label's art department knew nothing about. Lay's people opted for less black, less leather, and nearly no makeup, perfect for the dinky vintage set they were thrown into.

Lay dragged Kai to the closest unseen crevice he could find as soon as the director called for break. It was by the washing machines at the back; floor carpeted with lint and lit with only the rays coming through cracks above their heads. Kai cornered Lay to sit atop a washing machine. They kissed and grinded hotter than any footage the crew caught today, hands roaming under whimsical jackets and torn belts. Lay sucked under his ear as they undid each others' pants, careful not to leave any traces.

Kai fucked him into the white metal box, quick and dirty, spunk as much a token of cleanliness as the splatters of blue detergent sitting around it. Lay pulled them stumbling out of the room three minutes shy of the end of lunch break, sneaking to hide in the makeup room for some production-catered food, in a childish attempt to satisfy their adventurous case of postcoital munchies.

Three days past the video shoot and Jongin was hyping up the crowd at his Seoul Encore Concert. Kai had dyed his hair platinum white and donned grey contacts for this album, making him even more ethereal than he was before. His gaze tonight, however, was averted towards a young woman at the front of the pit section. So he took a piece of paper as he sang, wrote on it, and ascended down the stage stairs to the realm of the mortals. He gave the piece of paper to the unsuspecting lady, and went straight back to the stage to entertain the masses. Fuck Dispatch if they saw. They knew already what Kai was all about.

And so the young woman read the messy handwriting on cardstock letter, amidst clicking shutters and jealous, aggressive fangirls:

  


_I invite you. Kim Jongin. rm 1014. You will be escorted._

  


Kai had never disclosed his real name to anyone. When the young woman looked up, Kai gave her a fleeting smile, then he went to the other side of the stage to cheer up everyone else in the audience.

When the crew was dismantling the stage, long after the crowds had dissipated, the lucky young woman was guided by the guards to a black, luxurious van. They took her to the nearest Marriott from the Olympic Stadium and took her up to the tenth floor. One of the guards unlocked the door to Kai’s hotel room and let the young woman in before leaving her to her own devices. It was a motherfucking gigantic penthouse suite--totally over the top for just one person, but of course it was Kai they were talking about, and he could do whatever the hell he wanted. The young woman sat on the edge of the fluffy, white bed, not quite knowing what to do. She angled herself for the best view to the door corridor, waiting for the room owner to come.

The young woman jolted upon hearing the sound of the door unlocking. She did not know where to be, or what to be, or what to do.

“Hello. Are you there?” Kai’s voice echoed from the door corridor. His tone sounded so kind and pleasant. The young woman could hear Kai taking off his shoes from where she was sitting. Kai’s voice was full of friendliness, and he smiled as soon as he spotted her on the edge of the bed. Kai approached her and leveled his face with the girl’s: he was bare-faced, pimpled but perfect, still in gelled hair and leather outfits. He smiled. “Hi, Sweetheart. What’s your name?” Kai extended his hand.

The young woman looked at Kai’s hand—his clear-polished fingernails, really—and shook it. “Kim Junhee.”

“Nice to meet you, Junhee,” Kai mused. He finally looked down to her tattered T-shirt collar. “What year were you born in?”

“Eighty-seven.”

“Oh, dear. You’re my nuna by quite a few.” Kai stood up, then moved his hands to his buckle. Junhee whipped her head up in surprise, making him stop out of courtesy. “I’m sorry,” Kai said. “I’ll change in the bathroom. These kinds of outfits get hot and itchy after a while, you know.”

“Oh—I mean,” Junhee offered, pausing when she was already lifting her official fan T-shirt up to her shoulders. Shit, she looked so good in that wine-colored lace bra. “I don’t mind if we just. Begin?”

Kai laughs off the awkward eagerness. It probably would take him hours for this woman to warm up to him, but he did not mind doing the extra spoiling. He took a plush towel from the bathroom, walked back, and kneeled to hand the towel to her. He caressed her hair. “You get changed, too. I’ll see you in a bit.”

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Junhee stripped herself but kept her underwear on—what luck that Kai would actually see the great pick she made this morning!—and wrapped herself with the fluffy towel he gave her. She hoped to peek some semblance of his shadows from under the door .

Kai stood there as he finally opened the bathroom door, face so charming and hair outlandishly white, grey contacts still perched in his eyes. He was wearing nothing save for the white towel hanging down his waist. His muscles were so defined, beautifully more sinewy than buff. He looked straight into her eyes from where he was standing. Junhee stared back.hesitantly, wrapped in the same towel feeling strange and inferior.

She stood up from her little corner at the edge of the bed.

He walked up to her until their toes touched, hand hanging by her face. He whispered a soft, “May I?”

She nodded, reddish hair casting shadows on the curves of her small face. Kai leaned in with fragile care, as if an animal inspecting a curious stranger. He inhaled deeply, breathing her air in almost-kisses, mouth lingering above her cheeks, above her nose. In this silence, her pulse quickened.

Kai stopped, mouth only fractions of an inch away from hers.

He closed the gap and kissed her softly, as if testing the waters, and she gasped out of surprise. He caressed her hair and continued moving his fingers down her spine, making her towel drop and her body shiver.

He moved his hand up one more time to trace her back, finger playing slowly with the strap of her bra. “You look great in that,” he whispered, before lowering one hand to undo the knot on his towel. She watched as the plush piece of cloth dropped to his ankles. He gave no time before he put his hands on her shoulders, pushing her to the bed with him. Kai straddled her between his legs, taking in the sight as her hair formed an auburn halo around her face.

He kissed her some more, propped on his elbows, fingers laced with hers: treat her to the best night of her life with the sweetest of kisses. It was slow, unhurried--taking all the time to unravel each other. Junhee carded fingers through platinum locks. She moved her hand down his back and god he _laughed_ , oh so sweetly in her ear.

“Can I?” she asked, one hand on his ass.

“Yes,” he rasped, and he rumbled so deep from his lungs as soon as she started kneading his ass and stroking his half-hard penis.

He sucked her neck in response, making her squirm and sigh. “Will you be loud for me?” he whispered in response, “No one’s going to hear.”

She chuckled shyly. “Okay, _Oppa,"_ she whispered to his ear, dropping the honorific to his surprise. His penis twitched in her hand, his hair caressing the proud smile blooming on her cheeks. She resumed stroking his cock.

“Fuck,” he snarled. It was so hot to be called that by someone obviously older than him. He continued nibbling on her neck, lips traveling down to her clavicles. He put one hand behind her back to undo her bra. “You want me to play oppa with you now?”

“Do you even know how to do it?” she lifted her head amidst her raggedy breathing, because Kai was about to undo a girl’s bra with one hand without seeing.

“Of course I do,” he retorted proudly and proved himself right. The bra unclipped open in a matter of seconds. She dropped her head in amusement while he peeled the undergarment off of her body. He threw the bra to the carpeted floor.

Kai kissed his way down to her breasts. Junhee squirmed and moaned vulgarly when he licked around her nipple, hands gripping on the sheets. Her pussy was hot and heavy with her wetness. Her fingers were tangled deep in locks of silver hair, as if telling him when to move. She let go only to trail her fingers down to her pelvis and take off her underwear, smooth bare legs jostling underneath Jongin’s.

When she got them off, Jongin took her underwear and examined the glistening part inside where her wetness had stuck onto. He simpered quite proudly at his doing. Junhee watched expectantly, not knowing what plans Jongin had in store.

He put aside her underwear and continued, kissing down her navel. She already had one hand in front of her entrance, slim finger threatening to slide in. Kai wrapped his hand around her wrist and took her hand away from her pussy. “You don’t get to do that around oppa, okay?” He kissed her naughty hand, then her lips. He licked into her mouth, swallowing her helpless gasps before they pull away, a string of saliva connecting their swollen lips.

Jongin could not help but suck on her neck, watching red blotches bloom under her skin as she moaned for him, fingernails scraping his back.

He situated his face in front of her pussy, the smell of arousal strong against his senses.

Junhee covered her mouth, eyes glued to the ceiling, torn between watching the spectacle or experiencing it with all her senses.

She choked out the loudest moan upon the first swipe of his tongue on the entire length of her womanhood. His lips moved up and down as he thrusted as much of his tongue into her pussy, slick zings of pleasure rushing into her brain after all the buildup. She lifted her head for a glimpse and was greeted by a marvelous pair of eyes staring straight into hers, making her thrust closer towards his lips. They were so hot, touching so softly against her clit, against her entrance. His tongue stroked the sensitive ring of her entrance in all the right ways, and she grabbed his hair in response, pushing his mouth closer, deeper, faster. She screamed when he moved to lick her clit repeatedly upwards; it was nearing too much, but it had her toes curling so fast.

Kai stopped. He pulled away and she fell back onto the bed, panting helplessly. He took the towel and wrapped himself before walking to the toilet. Junhee watched, not wanting to be left all alone with her pussy open like that.

Kai came back with the square-and-bottle in his right hand and immediately undid the towel to go back to what he was doing. He put on the condom and slathered a slab of lube--definitely unnecessary given how awfully wet Junhee already was. He stroked himself, head thrown back in pleasure.

Junhee had both hands near her pussy, impatiently keeping it readily open for him. He climbed up the bed and aligned himself. “Ready?” he asked.

She nodded. Jongin was careful as he laid on top of her body. He propped himself up on his hands, cock aligned with his pussy.

Her jaw dropped upon the careful entrance.

“Ah,” he groaned, pushing slowly through the gorgeous hotness enveloping him. “I didn’t expect you to be this tight.” He inched through, bit by bit, watching as she cringed in pain. He moved before going any further, letting the experience be enjoyable for what little depth he had reached. He kept going until he was fully inside of her, relieved to see her face more relaxed than earlier. He kissed her, hoping to alleviate whatever hurt she was experiencing inside. She moaned as his lips touched hers, as his cock pulled slightly out of her, the feeling along her walls driving both of them mad. He ran his tongue along hers as he pushed back in, and she thrusted closer. He moved faster and hid his face in the crook of her neck, and she sighed. “Did I do something?” he asked, still fucking into her.

“I—ah—” she panted, struggling to make her sentences coherent amidst the rush of sensations. “I love seeing your back over your shoulder. You’re so broad.” Just thinking about it made her clench tighter around the girth of his penis, and he thrusted harder in response. “Fuck,” she responded back.

“So good, so pretty,” Kai said, caressing her hair like she was his only one, moving to hold her hand like they were in love. He kissed her ear, cock pistoning in and out of her. He caressed her arm but gripped it as soon as he went faster, breathing more erratic than before. “Is this fine?” he asked.

She nodded, and moaned, so loudly, when he sped up even further, the friction hot against her tight, wet walls. She pulled his hair hard, unable to contain the sensations. Kai lifted her left leg up his shoulder, and he threw his head back, jaw slack, the slight change making all the difference.

Kai groaned deep as he came inside of her, Junhee’s body jerking viciously as his grinding slowed to a halt, his come so strong, so hot against her walls. Jongin thrusted weakly into her as the orgasmic waves receded, and she mewled, the sensation overwhelming her overly sensitive body.

They ended up falling asleep out of postcoital fatigue with discarded clothing, dirty condoms, and god knows what else lying around the coffee-colored rugs of the hotel floor. Kai absentmindedly kissed all over the back of her neck as he came back to his senses, sleeping not too long after with his back against hers. Junhee silently left at 10 AM after a meal of room service waffles to never be seen again.

  


  


Jongin’s next fuck were his regulars: Physical trainer Park Chanyeol and tiny-lipped stylist Oh Sehun. Sure, Kai might be the hottest selling thing out there, but Oh Sehun was a Greek god in his own right, and Park Chanyeol was the object of every human’s wet dreams. The three convened at Jongin’s high-fenced, bamboo-concealed, unnecessarily spacious two-story house for a dinner of steak and red wine—eaten rare, of course, because what could be better than beef juice before beefcake?

Jongin opened his door in a black silken robe and fancy-ass house slippers. His two guests had shown up in tight chinos and suit jackets, awfully stylish and good-looking. Mr. Oh didn’t do much with his pitch black hair, but Mr. Park pomaded his bright red hair into red hot perfection, fitting to the teak brown velvet suit that bulged everywhere along his bulking upper arms. Mr. Park had a leather messenger bag slung onto his shoulder. He entered the mansion with such a confident gait upon Jongin’s invitation.

They talked shop at the dining table, simply small-talking around Jongin’s artistic plans and the roles the two would partake in them. New fashion runways. New celebrity brands their old colleagues came up with. New hair dye techniques that they wanted to try.

Mister Park opted for a little more red wine after the meal, and they ended up chitchatting some more in the living room, lowkey waiting for the buzz to hit.

Jongin was giggling into Chanyeol’s breathing space not too long after, Sehun lazily leaning on his shoulder. Jongin was not sure who started it, but either he or Chanyeol leaned for that first kiss. Chanyeol's mouth was plush and wet against his, warm and fuzzy like his entire body. Sehun joined in the fun, snuggling into the crook of Jongin's neck and giving experimental nibbles. Jongin giggled and sighed into Chanyeol’s beautiful lips. “I,” Jongin gasped. Chanyeol was licking into Jongin’s ear, and Sehun was sucking the umpteenth hickey on Jongin’s neck. Jongin hardly peeled himself off of the two. “Let me open the guest bedroom,” Jongin panted, opting for a spacious bed over the couch they were on.

Jongin staggered his way to the closest guest room, clambering to find the right key in. Sehun and Chanyeol clung to him as he walked, the promised bag of toys in tow, hands prying his robe open and hips pressing hard cocks onto his back and side. As soon as the door budged open, Jongin ran slightly out of to let the silken robe fall in one stride like the model he was. He threw himself onto the fluffy bed, readily inviting his guests to indulge him.

Chanyeol did not wait all too long before orchestrating Jongin into jutting his ass up in the air. Jongin was not a pro in getting anal, but he was not a green stranger to it, either. Chanyeol knelt behind Jongin and stuck the black vibrating buttplug that he’d brought in his bag, sticking the toy inch by inch. Jongin felt Chanyeol’s large hands leaning his weight on his waist and watched as a set of car keys dangle into view. Chanyeol stopped rattling the keychain to pick out one remote control. He pressed the power button.

Jongin jolted and moaned as soon as the toy vibrated inside of him. Chanyeol scraped his nails all over his back and Sehun crawled to his front to give him the dirtiest of kisses. Chanyeol moved the toy in and out, happy to hear Jongin being so loud tonight as Sehun sucked on his tongue and pinched his nipples.

Once they were all hard and receptive to pleasure, Sehun pulled back and kneeled, practically shoving his cock in Jongin’s face. Jongin rose on his hands and took Sehun’s cock, sucking like the obedient bitch he was playing tonight. Sehun threw his head back and gripped Jongin’s hair by the handful, guiding his sinful mouth closer. His chiseled muscles stretched so beautifully with his movements, eternally spanning shoulders a contrast to narrow hips. Unlike Chanyeol and Jongin’s slightly thicker builds, Sehun was long and slim. So slim, that no matter how much muscle he tried to put on, it never seemed to swell and build on his body.

Jongin fucked back onto the toy in Chanyeol’s hand, but Chanyeol pulled the toy out of him, making him groan around Sehun’s cock. Chanyeol put on his condom and lubed his thick hot cock some more before pushing into Jongin’s tight ass, pushing all the air out of Jongin’s lungs. He moved fast, Jongin tight and hot around him, and Jongin soon was reduced into a melt of himself, wincing, moaning, hissing, unable to comprehend whatever the hell was happening to him.

Chanyeol pulled Sehun into a kiss, all teeth and tongue and sexual fervor. Sehun moaned into Chanyeol’s mouth. He couldn’t help but thrust faster into Jongin’s mouth and grip onto Chanyeol’s firm arms, only moving to tangle his fingers in Chanyeol’s red hair.

Jongin arched himself backward, mouth agape, when Chanyeol reached to pull his hair and stroke his dick. He fucked himself faster onto Chanyeol’s thick, long cock, pushing his mouth to envelop even more of Sehun’s dick. Chanyeol’s hand felt marvelous on him, fast and tight and just right, making Jongin thrust forward into Chanyeol’s hand and back onto Chanyeol’s cock.

Chanyeol leaned as close as possible and watched Jongin cry out helplessly as he thrusted the deepest he’d gone tonight, his hand going even faster on Jongin’s leaking dick, stream after stream of precome slicking the shaft for him to stroke. Jongin pulled away from Sehun watching Sehun jerking himself off in his face and and the amazing pain of Chanyeol’s pulls on his scalp. He was getting so close if they didn’t stop any sooner, and he moaned even louder for his audiences to hear. “Ah—Chanyeol. Ah. Fuck, I’m coming. I’m coming. Don’t—”

Jongin jerked so hard upon the sudden stop, trying to collect himself after that assault on his senses. Jongin panted as he dropped his head onto the sheets, groaning helplessly as Chanyeol continued fucking him through the intense orgasm. Sehun sputtered his own come onto Jongin’s hair, thick and white dripping down his forehead, Jongin unable to do anything but receive and receive.

He peeled himself off of the two, curling himself into a pleased-out, weak ball. Chanyeol pulled out to jerk himself to completion, shooting a second batch of come onto Jongin’s strung out body.

Jongin rolled to his side, face scrunched up into a pleased-out expression. He looked up the ceiling and thought, among the zings of pleasure still floating in his mind, if only this was the utmost of life he could possibly reach.

Jongin immediately rolled to his side, the pain displayed across his face a non-concern to his two fornicating staffers. He heaved a croaky, wet breath, and coughed, lungs swimming in liquid and god knows what. Without surprise, he spat out deep scarlet mucus onto his white comforter, stark against his white hair. He rolled back onto his back and reached at the imaginary promises written on his ceiling, coughing some more. With fingers trembling shut and a mouth dyed blood red, he smiled.

  


  


No one talked about it afterwards. Chanyeol slept in the living room, and Kai had firmly refused to be taken to the hospital. He upped and left whatever was left of his fast life: no party, no popping, no fucking. No nothing—not because of the remorse and disgust, but because of the emptiness that never went away. Everyone who had shared beds with him knew he slept with his back against them, curled tight into an untouchable, closed-off ball. Kai knew that gorging alcohol or screwing strangers would never help the gaping hole in his heart, but he loved it all the same. He knew that there must have been something bigger, out there, waiting for him outside.

The press became busy with guessing the causes of Jongin’s plummeting body weight and deathly complexion. Whispers came around in makeup rooms and backstage alleys with exaggerations of Jongin’s oddities. Headlines of Jongin being a major junkie who’d finally come to his end. An eerily stalkerish magazine edition on Jongin’s sudden skinniness, starting from a potential list of botched plastic surgeries to biographies and guestimations of every single person that he’d romanced or screwed. Jongin had grown too jaded with the temporary nature of it all, only wanting a welcoming heart to shelter under; a dock to moor his sails.

Sehun never made it back to work out of the discomfort of witnessing the hot-blooded Kai he knew stiffen into the solemn, dark-spirited man he’d become. Sehun was replaced by his fairly new assistant, Do Kyungsoo, a young man who Jongin had always been curious about but never got around to talking with.

Kai and his team had left the venue, the last one he would perform in likely a long time. Tonight, Kyungsoo sat in front of Jongin at the makeup table of his super fancy home, taking all his time to wipe Jongin’s face, breathing in much closer than necessary.

“You look pretty,” Kyungsoo praised, silently, as he softly wiped Jongin’s face with cleanser-wetted cotton.

Jongin shivered upon the compliment. He’d gotten many praises before, but not this candid. Not when he felt this bizarre, this hollow. “Thank you,” Jongin replied silently. “I get that a lot.”

It was Kyungsoo’s favorite part of the job to remove Jongin’s makeup. He loved to reveal the reddish flush glowing underneath Jongin’s skin, hidden under powder and stardust to contour him into shades of what he was not. He wished Jongin would understand that he looked beautiful, just like this. Kyungsoo took extra care cleaning the extra eye makeup, not wanting to cloud Jongin’s beautiful eyes with stray clumps of mascara.

“You’re done,” Kyungsoo informed, chucking Jongin’s chin, accidentally directing Jongin’s eyesight straight into his. His gaze made Kyungsoo’s heart jump, but he was good at hiding it. Kyungsoo combed his fingers through Jongin’s coarse and frayed hair. “I’ll go ahead to sleep, okay? You’ve done so great. Good night, Jongin.”

Kyungsoo left Jongin to change into his sleepwear and and made himself comfortable at the sofa by the door. He was dozing off, thinking that Jongin would go straight to sleep on the king bed at the other side of the room, but was startled awake upon feeling the couch sink next to him. He straightened up. Jongin was looking at him with hesitant eyes before snuggling into the crook of his neck. Kyungsoo didn’t know how to accept the sudden gesture, hands suspended at arm’s length from Jongin. “Jongin, I’m not here for this—”

“Shut up,” Jongin whispered to Kyungsoo’s chest.

Kyungsoo reluctantly lowered his hands to embrace Jongin. “O—okay.” Kyungsoo stuttered. He pulled Jongin closer, Jongin’s cold hair smelling like sweat, glitter, and expensive shampoo.

Kyungsoo ended up accompanying Jongin throughout this unplanned hiatus, watching Jongin’s eyes gradually hollow like his cheeks had, letting Jongin bury his body in his arms every night without fail. Sometimes the snuggles would turn into kisses, and sometimes Kyungsoo had to wrestle his way, knock some sense into Jongin’s delirious, feverish mind. Jongin would roll back and sigh in defeat, stopping as soon as he realized that he was only trying to vent this frustration onto Kyungsoo’s warm body. Jongin wished he had found Kyungsoo earlier, let someone accompany him through the bloody hell he’d been going through on his own.

Kyungsoo was sitting on his half of Jongin’s bed, streaming American TV on his laptop, when Jongin came up to Kyungsoo asking for attention.

“Creep,” Kyungsoo commented.

Jongin smiled and teased. “I love you.”

Kyungsoo asked, “Do you want to go to sleep?”

“No.” Jongin moved, still asking to cuddle. “Kyungsoo,” he demanded, then coughed, and cleared his throat. “Would you think I mean it if I said I love you?”

Kyungsoo did not respond. His main character was vengefully wiping splatters of blood off of her face. Kyungsoo shut his laptop and set it aside before extending his arm, letting Jongin in.

“You have the whole world’s attention and threw it away,” Kyungsoo cooed. “You said about you loving me?” Kyungsoo adjusted himself and kissed Jongin. Kyungsoo retreated with a smile. “I don’t know. Maybe you do. Maybe _I_ do.”

Jongin looked up to Kyungsoo asking for an innocent kiss, but it turned all hot and dirty before they even knew it. Jongin rose up from his place to push Kyungsoo down on his pillow, letting himself be on top of Kyungsoo. He kissed every inch of Kyungsoo’s skin like he missed him, when he hadn’t gone anywhere.

“See, you’re on top of me again. This is unprompted and uncalled for.”

“Shut up.” Jongin kissed his hair, then his lips, tongue flicking and breath panting and teeth biting on Kyungsoo’s lips. Jongin took his hand to lace fingers with Kyungsoo. “You make me happy, have I told you that?”

“Have you?” Kyungsoo joked.

Jongin lowered Kyungsoo’s silken ivory pajama pants just enough to uncover Kyungsoo’s hard cock, and he leaned his head by Kyungsoo’s, lips by his ears, whispering, “I love you, though. For real.” before he chuckled as he started stroking Kyungsoo’s dick. Kyungsoo gasped. He tightened his grip, leaving Kyungsoo’s mouth agape.

“I call bullshit,” Kyungsoo panted, hips bucking into Jongin’s hand. “You’re jacking me off so that I can say I love you back.”

Jongin stopped, to Kyungsoo’s indirect request. Kyungsoo gasped offendedly in response. Jongin pouted, hands in the air. “Fine. I’m not. I love you, I said.”

Kyungsoo scoffed and threw his head back laughing. “You got me this horny now and you’re probably not gonna continue, are you?”

“I love you,” Jongin teased.

“Fine. I love you too.”

Jongin smiled wide with so much victory. He kissed Kyungsoo and resumed stroking Kyungsoo’s dick, faster and tighter than before.

“Perfect,” Kyungsoo complimented. Kyungsoo gasped, and Jongin kissed his cheek. Kyungsoo bent his neck to kiss Jongin, lustful and toothachingly sweet. “Keep going. Your hand’s great.” Kyungsoo watched Jongin’s hand pumping him, then he looked at Jongin. “Are you gonna say you love me again? Because I love you.”

Jongin scoffed. “I call bullshit. You’re saying you love me so that I can jack you off faster.”

Jongin stroked him faster anyway, and Kyungsoo pulled him by the collar so that they could kiss like smitten high schoolers. It was rushed and dirty, all tongue and teeth and happy smiling with plush lips touching. Kyungsoo looked into Jongin’s eyes and bit his lips. “Want me to suck you off?” Kyungsoo jokingly winked like the Britney Spears he hated but Jongin was flabbergasted upon witnessing the act, making Kyungsoo switch places with Jongin faster than he would have hoped otherwise. Jongin had him crouching in front of his crotch, and he laughed with so much satisfaction as soon as Kyungsoo took his cock in his mouth.

Kai was a withering orchid, firm hands trembling into bones, lively eyes hooded and dimmed with prematurely forming crow’s feet. He was propped on his elbows on top of a writhing body, fucking deep and in earnest, with soft grunts and nibbles, panting sighs and loving kisses. Kyungsoo sighed a helpless whimper. Jongin didn’t want to believe it, but he knew he made so much better love on borrowed time.

They came a little less than three hours after, Jongin thrusting insistently without falter and always stopping right before either of them could come. Jongin curled by Kyungsoo’s side, arms resting together with Kyungsoo’s heartbeat. Jongin watched the rivers of rotting blood in his blue, popping veins, stopping in crusting nailbeds at his fingertips. Kyungsoo’s chest was a fleshy, healthy contrast to Jongin’s deathly hand, reminding Jongin of where he belonged. If this were time, then he would want to wilt like flowers retaining their violets between pressed pages, like fragrant green buds dying on the sidewalk. He took Kyungsoo’s hand, because tonight, everything was his. Jongin could never make himself believe it, but he knew he crafted, he knew he loved so much better on borrowed time.

  



End file.
